The Marshes of the Dead
by Del Rion
Summary: "There are dead things. Dead faces in the water!" "All dead. All rotten. Elves and Men and Orcses. A great battle long ago. Dead Marshes. Yes. Yes, that is their name." -Full summary in fic - Part of "The Journey" -series.
1. Story Info and OC's Introductions

**Story Info **

**Title:** The Marshes of the Dead

**Author:** Del Rion

**Fandom:** The Lord of the Rings

**Era:** Fourth Age of the Sun

**Genre:** Drama, AU

**Rating:** T / FRT

**Characters:** Gimli, Legolas (, OCs)

**Summary:** _"There are dead things. Dead faces in the water!" "All dead. All rotten. Elves and Men and Orcses. A great battle long ago. Dead Marshes. Yes. Yes, that is their name."_ Who are those dead warriors in the water, whose lights call the living to join them? Only few truly know. When visiting Legolas briefly in Ithilien, the Three Cousins recall some of their worse memories, and the battle of Dagorlad is only a part of them…  
Part of the history of "The Last Journey". Complete.

**Warnings:** References to violence and death¬. The rating could also be PG, but let's take no risks…

**Beta:** Kitt of Lindon

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on J.R.R. Tolkien's stories about Middle-earth (mostly on the Lord of the Rings). The  
characters are not mine - except for those whom I have created. The story is slightly alternative universe, but written to honour Tolkien's creations.

_Have a good time and enjoy the ride (at least I hope you do!)_

**Feedback:** Yes, please, be so kind! Please review, I would love to know your opinion.

**Author's Notes:** English is not my mother tongue, so it isn't perfect. Please inform me of spelling and grammar errors, so I can correct them!

"Theme": Shape of Despair: "Fallen" (from the album "Angels of Distress")

**

* * *

About** _The Marshes of the Dead_**:**Tolkien never told much about the rulers of Mirkwood. In this story I reveal pretty much all that I know about Oropher, and of his deeds in the Dagorlad, but because of the exiguity of further details, I had to invent a lot myself.

This story is but a one way to see how the Battle of Dagorlad ended and the forming of the Dead Marshes begun (and what those two has to do with each other). The dead faces in the water have their own stories to tell…

**

* * *

Chapters and their status:** Here below you see the writing process of the story's chapters. If there is no text after the chapter's name, then it is finished and checked (until someone of my dear readers points me out some mistake, or I will do some updating…) so, check this page, because here I will mark the dates of the updates…

**01 A Letter  
02 Meeting  
03 Distant Light in the Night  
04 Memory of Dagorlad  
05 A Price of Pride  
06 Epilogue**

* * *

**OC's Introductions:**

_**The Three Cousins of Hithsîr**_  
Dínnor's father and Thalión's and Asthaldo's mothers were from the same family. Those three young Elves lived in the highlands of Taur-en-Faroth during the years of their youth. In the place called Hithsîr (Mistriver) that ran in the Taur-en-Faroth, south from Nargothrond, was fought a battle long before the destruction of Beleriand and the northern lands. Of that battle only few Elven stories tell, because it wasn't a great one, but the ones who fought in it (The Three Cousins) were named by it for years to come. Nearly hundred of Orcs that were heading to Nargothrond were waylaid there by those three and were slew during that night by them alone. The Cousins were barely adults, but they fought none the less, and the enemy was destroyed before they reached their destination. This battle is known among all the Elves, and the Three who fought in it have gained a great name in the years after, even if this first battle wasn't even near the greatest of all those they later fought.  
They were among those few Sindarin Elves who came to the Greenwood the Great with Oropher on the Second Age. They also fought with Oropher on Dagorlad, and were among those few who were led back home by Thranduil, who was made King after his return, for Oropher never returned.  
_(See my story _**Hithsîr**_)_  
**Dínnor**  
Race: Sindar Elf  
Age: Born in the beginning of the First Age  
Cousin of Thalión and Asthaldo: oldest of the three Cousins of Hithsîr. Golden long hair that is all braided to small braids. Dun eyes. Good archer and excellent swordsman. Excellent tracker. Also a patient observer, when needed, though quite rush at times.

**Thalión**  
_Race:_ Sindar Elf  
_Age:_ Born in the beginning of the First Age  
Cousin of Dínnor and Asthaldo, one of the famous Cousins of Hithsîr. Long, silver hair, which upper layer is braided to small braids, blue bands braided among the hair. Powder blue eyes. Excellent archer and good with sword and knives. Strong contact to nature, and can approach his destination without waking any suspicions of his presence. Even more patient observer than Dínnor.

**Asthaldo**  
_Race:_ Sindar Elf  
_Age:_ Born in the beginning of the First Age  
Cousin of Dínnor and Thalión: youngest of the three Cousins of Hithsîr. Pale golden hair long from the back, short front hair reaches just behind ears. Fallow eyes. Good swordsman and archer. Skilled in swift, close battles with knives or swords. Also a good scout, for he is able to silence any enemy quickly and without a sound.


	2. Chapter 1: A Letter

")…(" = Sindarin

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Letter**

* * *

**Year 3 of the Fourth Age,**  
**Southern Ithilien**

")_Ernil nîn?_(" A hesitant voice from the outside of Legolas' room woke the Prince from his thoughts, and he rose his head, wondering who bothered him at this early hour. He stood up and walked to the door, opening it without a sound.

")Ah, good morning, Brilving. How can I help you?("

")I am sorry to disturb you, _Le Haran_, but a messenger arrived sometime ago, and he had messages for you. I thought it was better to sent him off to rest, and as I had nothing better to do…(" the young Elf faltered, blushing slightly.

Legolas smiled, taking the offered letters from the other Elf, and thanked him with a quick nod. The younger one only mumbled something, and dashed off. Legolas stood in the doorway for a moment, shaking his head amused, and then went back inside.

As he walked back to his desk, he ran through the messages that the messenger had brought. A few letters from the councillors and other people like that from Eryn Lasgalen, one from his father – no doubt holding the same kind of content as the others sent by the councillors.

Legolas sighed. Ruling your own colony wasn't such a simple task, after all.

King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen constantly wanted to know how Legolas had progressed. Somehow Legolas understood that – in the end, Thranduil was his father, and he was the youngest Prince of Eryn Lasgalen. It was quite comprehensible that Thranduil felt a need to look after his youngest. But Legolas wished that his father would understand that he also needed his own space to do things. And the councillors… Legolas frowned. He knew that those Elves just tried to help him, but by doing so, they often drove him to the verge of insanity.

Legolas turned his attention back to the letter, trying to decide which was most likely to be the most important one… His eyes caught one envelope, and he drew it to the top of the others, his eyes widening with surprise. It was not a letter from his father, or any of the advisors.

Smiling, Legolas put that one message aside. He would read it later, if he were still alive after he had read the others. Sighing, Legolas sank into his chair, starting the most unpleasant task imaginable: reading the messages with full of generous hints and advises as how to rule his colony better…

* * *

It was already midday before Legolas was done with the other letters. Rising from his place, he stretched his sore muscles, and then glanced eagerly at the one last message waiting for him. Gently taking the letter, he put it inside his tunic, and headed out.

After so many hours of bored reading Legolas needed to get outside to fresh air. He passed by many Elves, returning the greetings with quick smiles. Heeding out into the 'gardens', Legolas hummed to himself, enjoying of the warm sunshine upon his face and the fresh wind playing with his hair. Soon enough, he reached the gardens, and walked to his favourite tree, swiftly climbing up to the highest branches.

'Garden' was what the Ithilien Elves called a part of the wood near to their dwelling places in their new home. They had brought there some plants from their home in the north, and nursed the plants there with special care. Anyone else but an Elf wouldn't have seen any different in that place and in the usual forest, but to an Elven eye it caught like a white rock among the grey ones. The 'garden' was differently tended, and the mark of Elven hands could be seen here and there. Elves, as is their wont, try to live in their dwelling places without disturbing the nature around them. This garden was a good example of that: all that the Elves had done there would not be easily seen, and would not disturb the nature itself.

As soon as Legolas found a good position in the arm of the branches, he slowly took out the envelope and opened it. The letter was written in Westron – unusual for Elves – but Legolas wasn't surprised a slightest. The Cousins always favoured Westron, if possible. With a small smile, he started to read:

_Dearest Legolas, _

_We all hope you are well, considering the hard work you must be going through while trying to establish the new colony. As far as we have heard, you have done well. Of course we expected nothing less from you. _

_But enough of trivialities: Asthaldo is already getting nearly as impatient as Dínnor, which isn't good, if I am wishing to write this letter to an end. _

_We wrote to you because we have thought to come and visit Ithilien – and you, of course, our dear Greenleaf. As this letter arrives, we have already left Eryn Lasgalen and are heading south. _

_We wish you to meet us on Amon Hen, in the beginning of August, which means a month from this day. Me and my Cousins are in no great hurry to travel across the Brow Lands. _

_As I have nothing much to say myself – I am seeing you soon, after all – I end this letter now. _

_Dínnor sends his love, and Asthaldo tells you not to worry too much about our coming: we do not expect to see a great city built in this short time, and you don't have to clean up for our sake – if you catch his meaning. _

_Your, Thalión, _

_& Dínnor and Asthaldo _

_PS. Now as my Cousins have left me alone, I want to tell you something: I am really proud of you. I am not sure if I said it to you when you visited Woodland Realm with Gimli, but I say it now: befriending a Dwarf is a good thing, whatever the others may say. And being capable to establish your own colony shows that you have grown up. You have truly become a warrior and a Prince both, just like we three always wished. _

_Seeing you soon, Thalión. _

Legolas stared at the letter for a while, read it through again, and smiled. It meant a lot to him to hear that Thalión was proud of him. After all, being given that opinion from one of the Cousins of Hithsîr wasn't a too small of a thing.

Sighing, Legolas leaned against the tree, and relaxed.

_to be continued…_

* * *

**)Sindarin(: - Westron:**  
_Ernil nîn_ - My Prince  
_Le Haran_ - Your Highness


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting

**Chapter 2: Meeting**

**August,**

**Amon Hen**

Legolas halted, his blue eyes surveying the path below him. All was silent, only the voices of the birds and the sound of the giant waterfall braking the peaceful silence. With a satisfied smile, Legolas dropped to the ground from the treetops where he had been travelling.

A half mile on his right ran Anduin, the rush of the water falling down the Fall of Rauros bringing painful memories to Legolas' mind. He walked forward, and the images started to build before his eyes. Five years ago he had been here. It still hurt him to remember the loss of that day.

By now Legolas had already reached a certain place near the shore. Clearly, the Elf saw the past unfold itself before his eyes. The boats pulled to the shore. The Hobbits glancing fearfully at Gimli as the Dwarf told them about the next steps of their journey. Legolas himself trying to warn Aragorn that the danger was near.

Then it all started. Frodo was missing. The enemies appeared out of nowhere. They fought. And some of them were lost. Boromir, the great and valiant Man of Gondor took three arrows to his chest before falling. Legolas still felt the pang of guilt assault his heart as he remembered the sigh of Aragorn leaning over the Son of Gondor, giving him the last blessing.

There had been no time for sorrow then: Frodo and Sam where on their way to Mordor, Merry and Pippin taken by the Uruk-hai. The Three Hunters rushed to the woods, hoping to reach their captured companions in time.

The images disappeared. Legolas stood staring at the forest, his mind full of self-hatred. If he would have been able to convince Aragorn that day… maybe then Boromir would still live. But what of Rohan, then? Would there have been any hope for Rohirrim if Aragorn hadn't been there when Saruman unleashed his power? Would Gondor still stand if Aragorn hadn't taken the Paths of the Dead?

Legolas sighed, knowing that the things had went right, as they were supposed to: the Song of Ilúvatar never failed, never erred.

Stepping forward, Legolas entered the forest, walking up the hill that would lead him to the place where he had seen an Uruk-hai for the first time. A moment that was hard to forget.

The change in the trees' song alarmed Legolas before anything else did. Wind brought him no sounds different from those before, but the Olvar told him something else: he was not alone. Soon after the first feeling of dread, Legolas' own senses were able to feel it as well. He was being watched.

With steadiness and calmness that told of years of experience, Legolas drew his bow free, not yet notching an arrow. His stance shifted, and his eyes searched for the enemy.

Time passed.

Nothing moved.

But the feeling stayed, and so Legolas waited, letting his immortal patience serve him well, as it had served him for centuries in his own land in Mirkwood.

Then, faster than a mortal eye could ever see, Legolas grasped an arrow from his quiver and set it to the string of his bow. Just as fast, something moved among the treetops, no longer hiding its existence. Legolas' aim followed, waiting for an opportunity to shoot. Behind him snapped a twig, and Legolas released his arrow, not waiting to see if it hit its target. Spinning around, crouching low, Legolas caught one of his white knives, bringing it against the new enemy.

All the movements stopped.

Dínnor swallowed against Legolas' blade that was pointed to his throat. From up the trees came a frustrated sound. Behind Legolas, up the path he had been about to walk, came a sound of clapping hands. "Bravo, )_ernil nîn_(, you have defeated yourself – and my dear cousins as well, it seems," Thalión said, smiling brightly at Dínnor, whose dun eyes darkened somewhat.

Slowly, a smile spread itself across Legolas' features, and he lowered his blade from Dínnor's throat. "My apologies," Legolas said, daredevil in his voice.

Dínnor frowned and nodded, caressing his neck with his hand somewhat gingerly. "Has no one ever told you that playing with sharp things such as that is dangerous?"

Legolas made an innocent face, trying to look like he was thinking while he put the knife back to its place. "No, actually," he smiled. "And I didn't ask you to sneak up at me."

"Sneak?" Dínnor said, his eyes wide open with horror. "Sneak! Oh my Lord, we would have never thought such a thing! Folly and childish… sneaking…" Dínnor muttered, his eyes narrowing.

Legolas raised him an eyebrow, still smiling. Shaking his head, Legolas turned to meet Thalión who was approaching them slowly. With a slight bow, Thalión stepped to Legolas, hugging him hard instead of clasping hands. After all, here was no one around to whine them about the lack of formalities.

Dínnor, swallowing his pride, laughed merrily and scooped Legolas into his arms as soon as Thalión released him. "It is good to see you too, Little Bird."

"Umm, excuse me, but if you all aren't too busy with a group hug, I could use some help here…"

All three Elves on the ground looked up into the direction of the voice, and broke into laughter.

"Very funny, yes. Could you _now_ help me?" begged Asthaldo, who was stuck to a tree from the arrow that Legolas had shot. The shaft of the arrow was buried deep into the trunk, piercing Asthaldo's tunic deftly and surely.

"Right away, dear cousin," Dínnor gasped, and climbed up to the tree to release his youngest cousin.

"You didn't do much better yourself," Asthaldo argued as Dínnor yanked at the arrow.

"But I didn't got myself stuck by an arrow." Another yank. "This is stuck."

Asthaldo moaned miserably.

"Oh, stop whining. Just cut your tunic and –"

"I am _not_ going to cut my tunic in pieces, so forget it!"

"You are just making this to be more difficult than it's necessary…"

Legolas and Thalión looked at each other, and laughed.

"Let's leave them to their argument: I wish to speak with you," Thalión said, and walked up the ancient stairs, Legolas only a step behind.

"What is it?" Legolas finally asked, as they reached the top.

Thalión smiled, and pounced Legolas playfully to the chest. "You have improved."

Legolas smiled, suddenly feeling very young and inexperienced again. "I haven't got much time to practice lately…"

The older Elf laughed, shaking his head. "You still act like a novice around me and my cousins."

"Compared to you three, I am a novice."

"Hardly. You have still much to learn, of course – no one is perfect, ever. Being perfect means…" Thalión made a vague move with his hand, and smiled at Legolas. "One can never be perfect. There will always be small faults, but it is not a bad thing. Being too perfect it also a fault – and not a small one of that."

Legolas nodded, smiling back. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Thalión shook his head and sighed. Kicking a rock lying in the ground, he sent it rolling down the hill. "Dínnor is worried that your father tries to press you too hard. I guess I have not much choice but to agree with my cousin."

"My father only wishes the best for his people- to our people," Legolas halted. "But I would wish the King would trust me more. It seems to me like he is trying the ice with a stick, seeing if it brakes. And the ice – me – will brake, eventually, when enough pressure is added."

"Your father only wishes to be sure that you have things under control," Thalión said softly. "You are still young, and his youngest child: what else could be expected from him? He wants to make sure that you won't fail too miserably… He made a lot of mistakes in the beginning, but he had no father to look after him, then…" Thalión went silent, his eyes distant.

Legolas stared at his elder, interested. "When my father became a King… How did it happen? I mean, how did he do, as a King?"

Thalión stared at Legolas, again seeing before him an Elfling, wide-eyed and waiting for answers. _And what truth shall I tell him?_ the older Sinda wondered. _Legolas knows I was in Mirkwood when his father was made a King. There is no way denying it. But there are certain things that will draw his attention, sooner or later…_ "Your father learned to be a good King," he finally answered, ignoring the disappointed look on Legolas' face.

But before Legolas was able to ask anything else, Dínnor and Asthaldo appeared, the latter scowling at his oldest cousin, holding his torn sleeve gingerly.

Dínnor smiled brightly at Legolas. "A fine shot you got there. I am afraid we did not get your arrow off from the tree trunk, but I wonder if that matters…"

Asthaldo shot an annoyed look at Dínnor. "He didn't even try…"

"Oh quiet you! I could have left you up there in to your misery," Dínnor shot back.

"He tore my tunic!" Asthaldo said accusingly, glancing pleadingly at Thalión.

Thalión breathed deep, raised an eyebrow to both of his cousins, and shook his head. "Your troubles truly are…"

"Tremendous," finished Legolas. "I am sorry, Asthaldo. But maybe this reminds you _not_ to try to sneak on me next time."

"You watch out your words, brat…" Asthaldo swore good-naturally, stepping to Legolas and trying to slip his arm around the younger Elf's neck. Legolas twisted away, laughing merrily, and took a few steps back, avoiding Asthaldo easily.

"If we are quite ready here…" Thalión began, slightly impatient.

Dínnor looked at his cousin, sensing his sudden change of mood. "What's wrong? Has something happened…"

"No," Thalión spat out, and headed out to the direction of south. Dínnor stared after him, bemused.

"I am afraid I caused that," Legolas quiet voice broke the silence.

Dínnor glanced at the Prince who was frowning worriedly. Shaking his head, Dínnor tapped Legolas on the shoulder as he walked past the Prince. "It won't last long. He is just happy to see you, that's all."

"And he has a funniest way to show it," Asthaldo shrugged, starting to walk after his elders beside Legolas. Somehow he suspected that their trip to the south would not be as merry as he had first thought…

_to be continued…_


	4. Chapter 3: Distant Fires in the Night

")…(" = Sindarin

* * *

**Chapter 3: Distant Fires in the Night**

* * *

**Nindalf**

Legolas jumped from rock to another, the sound of running water filling his ears. They had crossed Anduin some time ago, and their travel down the river side has been an uneventful one.

Thalión had gained back his good mood, not a shadow of his earlier behaviour visible. But Legolas knew that the gloominess waited just beyond the surface. But he didn't wish to push his elder. If Thalión wanted to speak, he would do so on his own volition. In that, he and Legolas were much alike – like they were in many other things too.

"Legolas, watch your step!" Asthaldo shouted from behind, and Legolas halted, just in time to notice that he had been about to step on a rock that wasn't too stable. Asthaldo jumped on a rock nearest to Legolas, his fallow eyes shining. "Deep in thought?"

"Something like that," Legolas admitted.

Asthaldo nodded, and then smiled again. "Well, in the case you fall, don't worry: we shall fish you out in a first calm bay we can find. Though we shall not come across one until many miles ahead…"

Legolas lunged forward, trying to strike the other Elf. "No need to bother! I don't do 'fallings', and I am a perfect swimmer."

"Whatever you say, Princeling," Asthaldo laughed, moving forward.

Legolas, taking up the challenge, rushed towards him. Asthaldo would not be the easiest opponent, for the other Elf was even swifter in his movements than Legolas, preferring close knife-fights above all fighting styles. But Legolas has been taught to fight both swiftly and sure-footedly, hunt a prey along the tree limbs high above the grounds… and Asthaldo had been one of those teaching him.

"Those two are going to kill each other some day…" Thalión shook his head, watching the younger Elves dash from a rock to another. Thalión himself was walking on the shore, his powder blue eyes following the rivals all the time.

Dínnor, beside Thalión, laughed softly. "Ah, I feel young again. Don't you? And look at Asthaldo! For few centuries I have been afraid that he is finally growing up, but it seems that he still has that child inside of him."

"I think it is because of Legolas. He has that affect on Asthaldo. Though I am not sure if it is a good one…" Thalión replied, amused.

"Oh, it is good. And do you dare to deny that you act differently when Legolas is around?"

"What about you? Your change is most radical of us, as far as I have noticed during the years. I am like Legolas' older brothers to him: looking after and encouraging. Asthaldo is like one of his own age, making him laugh and dash along the rocks pointing out of water. But what of you?"

The oldest of the Three Cousins looked at his youngest cousin, still pursued by Legolas, and frowned. "How I change in his presence…" Dínnor pondered. "I am not sure, and that scares me." He glanced at Thalión. "Come now, give me a hint. After all, of all of us, you are the most mature and responsible."

"You take the lead when you feel it is necessary," Thalión said. "And when you do so, you do it with skill. That means you are mature enough to look after yourself and the others under your care. But when it comes to Legolas…" Thalión smiled, his eyes glinting.

"Please, continue. I am bursting with curiosity."

"You have always acted differently around Legolas: when he was younger, you asked much from him – maybe too much. You tried to make him perfect."

"I tried to help him to be a warrior he wanted to be," Dínnor agreed.

"But later, when he grew more sure with the weapons, you got more… how would I describe it? Possessive could be a word, or overly protective. Sometimes I couldn't be sure who was watching Legolas with more care: his bodyguard or you."

"He was a child then, and Mirkwood is not the best playground imaginable for children."

"You deny it," Thalión laughed. "You keep circling around the truth."

"Maybe, or then not. I have always been protective towards those I care about – including both you and Asthaldo. But Legolas is different. I want to keep him away from harm."

"And yet you continually drag him into one."

"Pardon me?" Dínnor asked, his voice somewhat hurt.

"You get him into trouble. And don't try to back away from this. Because this is the thing I was originally pointing at," Thalión paused to breathe. "I am looking after him, playing a shoulder he can lean on. Asthaldo is the one of his age, understanding him on another level and making him smile after a long day. But you get him into trouble."

"And you haven't mentioned this before, why?" Dínnor asked, growing suspicious.

"Because you always stay beside him, seeing him through the trouble. 'Challenges' you call them. And it has worked, on a long run, I must admit. He has become a great warrior, who is afraid of few things, and who bonds with his companions easily. He is open-minded, and yet calculating enough."

Dínnor laughed. "Is there actually a point you were trying to get through?"

"No," Thalión sighed.

There was a shout of triumph from the direction of the river, and the two Elves turned to look into its direction. Legolas had caught up with Asthaldo, only a few steps separating them. Asthaldo, noticing that he was loosing the game, increased his pace, and forgot one important thing: to watch where he was stepping. Only a moment later, he landed on a rock that was less than stable, and with a shout, he tried to fight back his lost balance. The sad thing was that Legolas, who by then was right behind Asthaldo, had no time to stop, and the Prince crashed right into Asthaldo's back. With a shout, they both fell into the water.

Dínnor and Thalión stared at the sight before them, both slightly amused. But knowing that the torrents here – still quite near the Falls of Rauros – were unpredictable and possibly dangerous, they ran forward, their eyes never leaving the place where the younger Elves had fallen to water.

But before the rescuers reached the place, Legolas and Asthaldo surfaced, and for a moment it wasn't quite clear for the ones watching them if they were trying to strangle each other or trying to get away from the water.

"Oh this is just great…"

"Don't you dare to put the blame on me!"

"You crashed right into me. What I'm supposed to –"

"You stopped like a lighting would have struck you. I had little choice but to –"

"Now, children, children…" Dínnor smiled, reaching the fighting couple.

"You even dare to say you are not enjoying the situation…" Asthaldo growled at Dínnor, trying to stay above the surface and wipe out the hair on his face.

Laughing, Dínnor and Thalión pulled the two out of the water. The wet couple should have been a happy one because they had not been swept away by the currents. Glowering to each other, Legolas and Asthaldo walked back to the dry land, under stern supervision of their elders.

* * *

Warmed by the campfire, a faint smell of roasting meat in the air, Asthaldo sighed happily and relaxed on the ground where he was lying. The night was arriving, and they had camped near the river, now waiting their supper to be ready.

Thalión was checking his bow, polishing the embroidered surface with care. Beside him sat Legolas, having volunteered to fix the arrow that has brought down their meal. Dínnor was watching after the food, as if it would have been planning to run away in near future…

The accident happened earlier that day had not been mentioned again, and Asthaldo was happy about it – just as much as Legolas. Dínnor would have been able to shout them for ages of such stupidity. But the eldest had let the matter rest, most likely understanding that the two younger ones understood the risk themselves. They were all four, after all, seasoned warriors.

"Supper is ready," Dínnor called out.

Everyone dropped their current task and gathered nearer the fire. They had not eaten during that day, and they were hungry. Even if Elves survived with little food and had no appetite of Men, they also needed food at times. And the Cousins, having spent a lot of time among Men in their earlier years, were accustomed to eat daily.

After the supper was finished, Thalión and Legolas returned back to their tasks, and Dínnor cleaned the signs of their eating. Asthaldo, in the meanwhile, brushed his hair, and started to braid it again. He hadn't had time to do so after their little 'dive'. Leaving his slightly shorter front hair free, Asthaldo played for a moment with the rest of his hair, trying to come up with some fun way to braid it. Finally, he braided the upper layer of his back hair to a one big braid, and the lower level partly to smaller braids, leaving them hang among free strands of hair. Finally satisfied, Asthaldo settled down again, leaning on his arms for support.

Legolas, always interested in the Cousins' way of braiding their hair, had stopped his working while Asthaldo operated with his hair. The Prince new well the envy the mortals held towards Elves in this way of 'art', as well: what to the Elves was a simple braiding, would take for mortals hours to perform, especially when done to yourself. Now that Asthaldo was finished, Legolas crept closer, his blue eyes scanning the other Elf's work.

"What do you think?" Asthaldo asked with a smile.

Legolas blushed slightly, like a youth caught by a maiden he had been spying on. "Well, it is different – from the normal customs of Elves…" the Prince touched his own hair somewhat remorsefully.

Dínnor let out a small laughter, smiling at the two younger Elves. Shaking his head, he glanced towards the sky. "Elbereth has blessed us with many stars tonight, it seems."

"They are always the same stars, Dínnor," Asthaldo rebuked.

"Don't ruin my romantic moment, Asthaldo."

Time passed in silence, all of the Elves staring at the skies, their eyes distant. The time mortals used to sleeping, was also a time of rest for the Elves – even if they did not sleep. Bathing themselves in starlight is enough rest for Firstborns.

At some time of the night, Thalión rose from his place and walked away from the others. Legolas, stirred by this, turned to look after the older Elf. "Thalión? Is anything wrong?" There was no answer, however, Legolas rose to his feet, and swiftly walked after Thalión, finding the other standing in the darkness, gazing at the north-east. "Thalión?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silver haired Elf did not turn to face Legolas and the archer grew worried, circling around to see Thalión's face. He was shocked by the pale, emotionless expression he faced. "Thalión, are you well?" Legolas asked again, more sternly this time, putting his had gingerly on the other's shoulder. Thalión did not react, and Legolas frowned, puzzled. This was not like Thalión. It seemed as if the other Elf was not even seeing or hearing him… "Thalión, what's wrong? You are scaring me, )_mellon nîn_(" Legolas tightened his grip upon Thalión's shoulder.

To this the other one seemed to react, the powder blue eyes blinking, a shudder running through the strong body. Legolas took immediately advantage, calling out Thalión's name again. This time Thalión also turned to meet the worried haze of the Prince. It looked for a moment that Thalión struggled to see Legolas, his eyes narrowing and a hand grasping Legolas' tunic in a desperate grip.

"Thalión…"

It was gone. The haze passed, and Thalión let go, pushing away from Legolas. "Leave me be."

"But Thalión…"

"You heard me, Greenleaf. Leave me. The lights are calling…" Thalión eyes turned back to north-east again.

"Lights? What lights? Thalión, you are not making any sense!" Legolas tried desperately.

"The lights shine in the dark, calling… Their voices come from the deep…" Thalión's voice was like it was coming through a dream.

"Thal –"

"Come on, Legolas, you heard him. Let's leave him alone." Dínnor's hands took Legolas by the shoulders, dragging him back to the camp.

"What's wrong with him? His words didn't make any sense…" Legolas asked, glancing back worriedly.

"Let's say it is good you do not understand," Dínnor answered, his voice grave. He, on his side, refused to look at his cousin. "Leave him be," he muttered into the night that had suddenly turned cold.

_to be continued…_

* * *

**)Sindarin(: - Westron:**  
_Mellon nîn_ - My friend


	5. Chapter 4: Memory of Dagorlad

**Chapter 4: Memory of Dagorlad**

The next morning was a misty one, smell of bog heavy in the air. It seemed that the Cousins were not too pleased by the atmosphere, and the company continued their way quickly. Even Asthaldo was quiet. Thalión walked like a ghost, his eyes shadowed. Legolas watched them worriedly, walking beside subdued Dínnor. His own mood wasn't too good, and his companions' behaviour made his skin crawl.

Legolas' mind was running in circles. Yesterday, the question of his father's early years as a King had made Thalión upset, and then his strange behaviour at night… Legolas decided he needed answers. And he was going to have them this time.

"We need to talk."

"We know. Thalión…" Dínnor said, somewhat tiredly. Legolas wondered if the warrior had rested at all last nigh. Most likely not.

"You could tell him. It is not like it would matter any way…" Thalión replied, his eyes never leaving the invisible trail he was following.

Dínnor, letting out a frustrated sound, grabbed Thalión's arm none too gently, and halted his cousin abruptly. "You started this. Whatever you talked about on Amon Hen, and your behaviour yesterday… it is more than enough to earn you the right to tell him."

"What am I suppose to say to him?" Thalión shouted, desperation in his voice.

"I don't know! Whatever he wants to know. He is old enough to bare the truth… any truth…"

"Most of our people cannot bare the truth, Dínnor," Asthaldo added bitterly, joining to the argument.

"What truth?" Legolas asked, more coldly than he had intended. They all had halted on their marks, and the Cousins were glaring at each other darkly.

"The truth of your grandfather, of the Battle of Dagorlad, of the Dead Marshes. What do you want to know?" Dínnor turned at Legolas, his dun eyes burning with fire Legolas had never seen there.

But then suddenly Dínnor remembered his place, and clasped Legolas' shoulder apologetically. "I am sorry. I wasn't supposed to say it like that… Forgive me. I'm loosing my patience."

"You never had much patience in things like this, Dínnor, and I do not blame you," Legolas said softly. Then he turned to look at Thalión, his eyes serious. "Truth about the Battle of Dagorlad? Of Dead Marshes? I think it is better you tell me this is chronological order."

Thalión nodded, sighing. "You better help me with this," he said to his cousins, and the turned back to Legolas. "We had better find a place to sit down, because this will be a rather long account."

They walked to the side of the river and seated themselves on a rocks warmed by sunlight. Thalión gathered his thoughts for a moment, and then started, his voice rather uncertain in the beginning. "We could start from the end: of my behaviour last night." There was a pause, and for a moment Legolas wasn't sure if Thalión would even continue. But he did. "Memories are the plague of Elves: we remember everything that has happened to us during our years in this world, as many as they may be. Memories are as clear to us as the memories of yesterday. And dwelling in… certain memories it is not wise. They drag you down to the shadows, and hunt you both in your dreams and in waking life."

"Certain memories?" Legolas encouraged.

"You know we fought beside your grandfather – and father – in the Battle of Dagorlad."

"Yes, I know."

"Your grandfather never returned from that battle," Thalión continued, awkwardly. "The death of Oropher was a great loss for all our people… And the way of his passing is a thing… a _story_ told in various forms."

"What do you mean with that?" Legolas asked, his eyes narrowing. "My grandfather died in the battle against an enemy far greater in both number and strength."

"Indeed," said Asthaldo somewhat bitterly. "But you have been told that 'perspective' of the story that suits the Elves better. If you ask some other race, or Noldor, for example, you get a far different account of those events of a battle."

There was exchanged looks between the three elder Elves that greatly bothered Legolas.

"Your father was a Sinda with both wisdom and pride. And his pride sealed the doom of his people," Thalión said, acrimony in his voice. "He led the forces of Greenwood to war alongside a smaller group from Lothlórien. We joined to the forces of Gil-Galad, but when the battle began, it was obvious that Oropher wasn't going to take any orders from any _eldar_ of the West. Before Gil-Galad gave his order to attack, Oropher ran forward." Thalión halted, his eyes distant, no doubt seeing the battlefield before his eyes.

"Our weapons and armoury where nothing compared to those what the _eldar_ in the west used," Dínnor continued. "Even if the Silvan Elves of Greenwood fought bravely and obstinately, they were all killed."

"Slaughtered," Asthaldo muttered, his eyes rising to find those of Legolas. "We were hacked down, line after line. And we were alone. The Lórien Elves fell, and forces of Greenwood were driven apart from the main group…"

"Driven to the Marshes," Thalión said, his voice choked. "Only a third of the Elves of Greenwood returned back home with Thranduil after the battle, and he was made King."

Legolas was quiet, his mind absorbing this new point of view. "So my grandfather…"

"He was a great King, but his pride took better of him. He refused to take any commands from Gil-Galad. I know: I was there. Right behind him when he gave the order to attack the enemies. I will never forget it, the screams around me, the faces of my fellow warriors as they realised that we were alone – that we were all going to die, their blood upon my skin," Dínnor said, his voice low. "I remember how we fought. Backing up and fighting again. The ground turned to moss, and the moss into water and deceiving ground. To a bog. Many who fell into the deeps never came up again. "

They all were silent for a while, staring at the ground at their feet. "I never was there," Asthaldo said. "I got hit by an arrow to my leg, and I was left behind. I never reached the Marshes… Not then."

"But we went there later, years after," Thalión continued. "Before we knew you, Legolas. You were only few years old then. We were sent to a scouting mission to the Black Land. We passed through the Dead Marshes then, thinking it was the best way to approach Mordor. We never took that path again." Thalión's eyes gazed at the north-east again, sorrow filling them. "There were dead faces – corpses – in the water. The bog had spread out, no doubt Sauron's work, as you think it later. The bog had swallowed the graves of the dead. At night, there were lights, calling us closer. But more horrified we were by the voices. I am not sure if the mortals hear them – Gods to bless them if they do not. The howls, screams, whining… Calling us to join them, to look at them. And then you see the faces: faces of Men and Orcs, and Elves. You remember the ones you fought with that last day of their living, and then you have to face them again. They lay there, in the water, and they are all dead and rotting, calling for you… " Thalión pressed his head to his hands, his breath swallow.

"You saw the lights last night?" Legolas asked carefully. "Heard their voices?"

"Memories deceive the Elves, Legolas. They are your worse enemy, if you let them take over you," Dínnor said, his eyes resting upon Thalión.

"Thalión went too near the lights. I think he felt their call differently than we, sensitive as he is," Asthaldo spoke. "He fell into the water. It was nearly… too late… before we got him back up. He saw the dead ones. Felt their touch upon his skin. He will never forget."

"If Oropher just would have stayed with the main group," Dínnor sighed, shaking his head. "But we paid the price of our stupidity."

'_We paid the price.'_

The words echoed in Legolas' head as he rose up, turning away from his friends, and walked away, wishing to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

_to be continued…_


	6. Chapter 5: Price of Pride

**Chapter 5: A Price of Pride**

Sitting on a high boulder near the river's side gave Legolas a good view to the north-east. He didn't see the Marshes from this distance, but he didn't have to. The fair knowledge that the Dead Marshes lay there was enough for the Elf.

His thoughts were, yet again, in a state of utter chaos. All he had believed in his entire life was suddenly meaningless, a lie. Of course not everything, said a bitter voice on the back of his mind. Only the history of his people, and specially that of his family. The House of Oropher was truly nothing more than a shameful shadow of its so called glory. Pride was a virtue much cherished in Legolas' family – and now he understood why. They would all drown to their pride. And others would pay the price.

Distracted by his thoughts, Legolas did not notice Dínnor until the other one had sat beside him, offering him wordless comfort. "Are you all right, Little Bird?"

Legolas merely shrugged, his eyes still gazing at the horizon.

"Don't think it too much. It will do you no good. What has happened before has nothing to do with the present. Your grandfather's mistakes are not yours."

"But now as I think about it, I can see that same pride in my father. And in me."

Dínnor laughed, unbelievingly. "You had that same pride, yes. Long ago. But we took it away before you even noticed it was there – me and my cousins, as well as your instructors. And this far, you haven't repeated the mistakes made by your elders."

"But I still have time to do so."

"Oh, yes, you have time: all the time of the world. But it is not a doom that you cannot avoid. You make your own path, Legolas Thranduilion, from the House of Oropher. And you have already walked away from the path that both Thranduil and Oropher have walked: you have befriended a Dwarf, you rule a colony in a kingdom of Men, and most of all, you show respect to those who deserve it, being it a Man, a Dwarf, or a Noldo."

Legolas looked at Dínnor, shadow disappearing from his eyes. "My friendship with Gimli cannot be that unique. And he is only one Dwarf: the others of his kin are not too fond of me."

"But it is a beginning. All great things, alliances and friendships, have started from small things."

"But I am no ruler. I am a warrior. Therefor my actions cannot be entirely compared to those of my Kings."

"You rule in Ithilien. It is enough. And even if you would be more a warrior than a ruler, it doesn't matter: pride could still destroy you."

Legolas laughed now, his face sober. "The Dwarves indeed say that the doom of Elves shall be their pride."

Dínnor nodded. "Indeed, our kin is haughty, and not always without a reason. Oropher was proud, but he thought he fought for honour. The greatest mistake we can do in our lives is that we let the matters of honour mingle with our pride. There will never be anything good in result of that."

Legolas nodded, thoughtful, and let this information absorb deeply into his mind. "How is Thalión?" he asked then, slightly worried.

"I am sure he will be better if you would go to him, and he would see that you are also fine."

With a smile, Legolas rose, dropping down from the boulder and walked back to the waiting Cousins, Dínnor close behind. Indeed, Thalión's face brightened as soon as he saw that Legolas was well. Without further words about the battles of past, they continued their way to south.

But even then, whenever possible, Legolas' eyes strayed to look at the direction of the north…

_to be continued…_


	7. Chapter 6: Epilogue

**Chapter 6: Epilogue**

* * *

**A year later,**  
**The Dead Marshes**

"Legolas… where are we going?" Gimli asked, his voice already desperate. As he received no response from the Elf, he cursed bitterly with his own language, and kept walking. They had been walking for days now, and still Legolas refused to tell where they were heading . Gimli highly doubted that it was going to be any kind of lovely surprise. Legolas would have pointed that out already if the things had been so.

Now Gimli was forced to wait for the answer, or stay behind. But leaving this Elf to stumble around alone wasn't the first thing in Gimli's mind. And also that sting of curiosity that crawled beneath his skin kept him going.

Today was different from the other days. Legolas was even more subdued, his posture slightly stiff, his step somewhat nervous. Whatever their goal was, they were getting near to it. The Elf's behaviour only made Gimli wonder what kind of surprise was waiting for him. Or them both. Maybe even Legolas didn't know what lay ahead.

Without a sound, Legolas had stopped, and Gimli, deep in his thoughts as he was, ran right into his friend's back. With an annoyed scowl, Legolas looked down at the Dwarf, who merely glared back up at him.

Then the scent caught Gimli's nose, and he wrinkled it in disgust. "What is this terrible smell? Like something rotting in a wet ground. A _lot_ of something." But before Gimli had time to get his answer, Legolas had continued on. With a frown, Gimli started ahead, and then stopped dead in his tracks. They were standing on an edge of a cliff, and below them – actually everywhere before them – spread out some kind of a great bog. _That explains the smell_, Gimli thought, _but not that why the Elf had brought us here. Ah well, I guess I just have to go along and find out myself. _ Gimli continued after Legolas, carefully avoiding slipping on the steep rock.

As they reached the bottom, they were nearly on the side of the bog, and the smell was even more pressing. Legolas had stopped again, looking kind of lost as he stood on the edge of the water, gazing before him. Gimli reached him soon, and stopped beside his friend.

"If you ask my opinion, I liked more of the view from up there. And the smell too."

"You should not whine: Frodo and Sam travelled over all this."

"Over… but that means that we are on the side of the Dead Marshes."

"So we are."

"And what might on the face of the earth brought you here? I have always known that you have something terribly wrong inside that head of yours, but this is far beyond your usual coups."

"You would not understand," Legolas said sadly, a tone that greatly terrified Gimli.

"Then why drag me along all this way?" the Dwarf asked, annoyed.

"You could have said 'no'."

"So I would have done, _if_ I would have been aware of the destination of our little trip. But in the case you have watched this smelly swamp enough, we could head back home…"

"Not yet."

"What do you mean? 'Not yet'? When, then, your highness?" Gimli asked, impatiently tapping with his foot.

"When I have seen the lights," Legolas said, his voice like in trance. "When I have heard the calls of the dead, and seen the faces in the water."

"You could have asked Frodo if you would have liked to hear about the dead ones in the water," Gimli muttered. "I came to understand that he took a… closer look at them."

Legolas, however, wasn't listening, but sat down on the moss, staring ahead of him, as if waiting for something. A sign of some sort, perhaps.

Gimli, sighing deeply, sank beside his friend, knowing that there was no way he was going to drag Legolas away from here before the Elf had seen what he wanted to see. Not that Gimli liked it. No, he didn't like this thing at all, seeing lights and dead faces. He would have rather been on his way away from here, quickly as possible. For a moment, he seriously thought about hitting Legolas unconscious and dragging the Elf away from here. But Legolas had come here for some purpose Gimli didn't yet know, and so he waited. After all, he could render the Elf unconscious at any time later…

* * *

The night was dark, and Gimli felt even less comfortable with the situation than what he had been before. Wrapped into his cloak, Gimli stared angrily at the dark, muttering terrible things about a certain pointy-eared, foolish child, who had _again_ dragged him to some cold, dark, and wet place to suffer – without a reason, as it seemed.

Not that Legolas cared about the Dwarf's words. He sat on his place, like he had sat since they had arrived, his unseeing eyes gazing at the darkness. Gimli wondered if the Elf now saw those lights he had spoken about. Most likely not, because the lights were supposed to be seen by Gimli as well, and he saw nothing.

But there were voices. Gimli was not sure if it was his own imagination, but he heard things. Or maybe it was the Elf. Turning to look at his friend, Gimli tried to identify any signs of changing in the Elf. No luck there.

Muttering even darker things than the night itself around them, Gimli dug himself more deeply to his cloak, and waited.

It maybe took only minutes, or then hours, before there was a change. Lights came out of nowhere, looking eerie in the night. Gimli had to rub his eyes to believe that he really saw them. But there they were, here and there, among the tussocks of grass and moss, lighting up the night.

Legolas stood up then, startling Gimli with the sudden movement. There was now recognition in the Elf's eyes, but Gimli was still afraid of the strange, hypnotised look in Legolas' dark eyes. The Dwarf also stood up, uncertain what was going to happen next.

Legolas, on his side, didn't think too long. He walked forward, towards the lights, the voices now calling him to come closer. He didn't notice the dry land disappear beneath his feet as he stepped on a moss-covered tussock, his eyes boring themselves into the water.

There were lights. Burning brightly on the surface of the water, they caught his eyes.

There were voices. They spoke to him of death, of pain, of loss.

And then there were faces. Now that Legolas drew nearer the lights, he saw them. Shining with their own, eerie light, the faces looked up at him.

Legolas stepped forward, mesmerised. He couldn't resist. He could nearly touch them. The voices urged him on. The Elf didn't even notice as the moss ended and the water began. He was so near…

"Legolas!" With a powerful yank, Gimli pulled his companion bodily away from the water just as Legolas' hand touched the water. The lights flickered angrily.

The Dwarf had long watched the scene unfolding before him, until he understood that the Elf was in danger. One more step from Legolas, and he would have fallen into the abyss. Gimli shuddered at the thought.

"Legolas, wake up. This is not a good time for sleepwalking."

With a violent jerk, Legolas woke from his reverie, trying to get away from the arms holding him down. Gimli, on his side, strengthened his hold around the Elf, afraid that Legolas would bolt right into the water.

"It is all right, I am here," the Dwarf said softly.

Finally Legolas calmed, and patted Gimli's arm as a sign that the Dwarf could let go. "I am fine…"

"Sure you are. Without me, you would be right now taking a swim with the dead ones."

Legolas looked at him, somewhat puzzled, and the turned to look at the water. His eyes widened. Fully out of his trance-like state, he saw… Dead faces. Corpses in armours that were nearly untouched by the ages. Men and Orcs and Elves. All dead. All rotting.

With a wailing shout, Legolas shot back, burying his head to Gimli's shoulder. The Dwarf, bemused, held the Elf, feeling the lithe body shake against him as Legolas fought within himself.

Legolas still heard the voices. Even behind his closed eyes, he saw the faces, empty eyes staring at him, boring into his soul. But he didn't wish to see, nor hear, and he shook his head in desperation, pushing himself as near as possible to Gimli. He didn't wish to see the dead ones of his own kin. The ones dead because of one Elf's pride had been too great to be defeated. They were all dead now. They had paid the price.

As the hours passed, Gimli tried to calm the Elf, but with little success. Finally he gave up, sat down, and held Legolas tightly, comforting his fried as the other demanded, giving Legolas strength through his presence.

When the sun finally rose, the lights disappeared, and Gimli shook Legolas gently. "Wake up, Elf. The lights are gone, and we should move on."

Legolas raised his pale face up, looking around himself, and saw the lights were indeed gone. He didn't dare to look more carefully, for he feared that the faces would still be there. Gingerly, he rose up, and walked to the shore, going a good way away from the bog before he stopped and slumped wearily to the ground.

Gimli sat beside him, digging out some food from his bag. "Now would you tell me what this all was about?"

"About pride."

"I'm not sure if I understood."

"They are all there because of one man's pride. One Elf's pride, if you like to put it so."

"All who?"

"The dead. Dead Elves… they died in the Battle of Dagorlad."

"I see," Gimli said thoughtfully, munching a peace of bread.

"No, you don't understand! They would all still live if Oropher would have fought on Gil-Galad's side! If he would have swallowed his pride just for once. But he didn't… he attacked alone, and with that, he doomed not only himself, but also his warriors."

"Maybe he did as he saw best," Gimli tried.

"A fool's deed, it was. A proud fool's. That same blood runs in my father, and you have seen it in his actions. Too proud to seek alliance from your kin, or from the Men. And I am not any better than him… than either of them."

"There, there, Las. Do not be ridiculous. We both know you are not meaning that. Even if your pride is great indeed, my tall friend, you have learned to swallow it for the sake of others. And you befriended me! Isn't that something with a meaning for you?"

"Of course it is –"

"Then stop your mumbling, and eat. I know your valour, my friend, and that is enough. As long as you acknowledge the mistakes of your forefathers, you have nothing to worry about."

Legolas thought this for a while, and then smiled, taking one piece bread from the Dwarf's pack. "Thank you. And not only for your friendship: I think you saved my life yesterday. In more ways than one."

"Don't mention it, Elf. That's what friends do. But I must admit that I was worried for a while. Just make sure such a folly thing won't happen again."

"I will," Legolas said, and the added, as Gimli looked slightly unconvinced: "I promise. I shall at least inform you before I attempt to do such a thing again."

"Good. Now tell me, how did you decide to come here in the first place…"

**The End**


End file.
